A Mother's Last Words
by Lady Demosthenes
Summary: Quatre Winner lived his whole life believing that he was a test tube baby, never knowing the sacrifice his mother made to bear him. This is a one shot for Quatre and non-Quatre fans that explores the possibility of Quatre learning the truth. Please R/R


A Mother's Last Words By Demosthenes 

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Gundam Wing.  This fanfic is based upon the events in the Episode Zero Manga.  You can contact me at ladydemosthenes9@yahoo.com.

Author's Note: For those who have not read Episode Zero, in the manga we find out that Quatre's mother died giving birth to him because of birth abnormalities on the colonies.  Catherine Winner knew beforehand that giving birth to her son would result in death, and yet she still went through with it.  However, Quatre's father allows Quatre to assume that he is a test tube baby like all his 29 sisters so that Quatre will not feel any guilt.  Quatre never finds out the truth in the manga or series as far as I know, and lives with contempt for being a "test tube baby."  As the actual series or Gundam Wing progresses, he begins to gain pride in himself and rise above his anger and hatred.  This one shot explores the results when Quatre discovers the truth.  I sincerely hope that you will enjoy it regardless of whether or not you are a Quatre fan.  

            Alabaster feathers tickled the skin of the water as they dragged along gracefully adorning the body of a truly regal creature.  The lady swan opened her wings wide in aesthetic splendor as half a dozen young babies followed her lead.  She turned in the water to face them, facilitating each of them with encouragement as they opened their own small wings to emulate their mother. 

            Quatre sighed, a single pale hand gracing his cheek as he watched the family of swans; subconsciously, he envied them.  The children had a real mother; one of flesh that could guide them along the way, they had been conceived through trial and hardship not out of convenience.  While the wars had raged on, he had found a place that would give him pride – in the cockpit of Sandrock.  He had fought for peace; he had upheld justice, but now, with the war a distant scar and the world fresh and new with possibility, he found himself degrading to his earlier condition.  His soul had been emptied of the pride he valued so much and left with the bitter dregs of days long gone.

"Quatre," the voice belonged to one of the men who helped him run all that came with being the Winner heir.  Quatre didn't so much as turn around to acknowledge the man's existence because he knew what he would see – the smart looking blue suit with a white shirt tucked neatly underneath and a human who would never understand his feelings.  That man had also had a mother.  A real mother.  "Quatre, the appraising agents are coming today to mark values on some of the old antiques in the estate.  I thought you might find that interesting to watch."  The young Arabian youth's eyes continued to linger on the pond as he waved away the man with his right hand.  The man, of course, quickly put together the pieces of the puzzle and understood that his master wished for him to depart from the premises.  So with his head slightly drooping from being brushed off so easily, he left. Quatre continued to gawk at the pseudo-nature of the colonies – the large oak trees, which were originally planted when the colony was built, the emerald green grass, and the turtles that peeked out of the pond while they thought no one was watching.  It wasn't fair; even the grass was worth more than the test tube self that he was.  A half a dozen more minutes of useless gazing, and he found himself compelled to go inside and see what was going on.

*      *      *

            There was a slight buzz of activity in the corner of the living room where a young lady dressed quite businesslike was closely inspecting a redwood desk that had been sitting there for as long as Quatre could remember.  She pushed her black –rimmed glasses towards her brown eyes casually as she ran smooth fingers along the polished wood.  It was obvious to Quatre that the glasses were just for show because most people on the colony had their vision corrected.  The gathering of maids and Winner agents dispersed at the sight of Quatre leaving him with the lady.  She worked in silence, raising a brown eyebrow now and then at the woodwork.  Quatre stood behind her, watching intently with his hands folded curtly on his lap.  She opened a drawer that seemed peculiarly small and started to press her hand against the inside back wall of it.  The wall instantly collapsed like an eroded barricade sending dust everywhere into the air, which appalled Quatre.  "What is she doing?" he wondered, "ruining my possessions like that?"  But he remained tactful and made no mention of it.  The dissonant sound of coughing filled the vicinity as the dust trekked through the air.  When the slight dust cleared, delicate female hands were caressing a velvet bound book.  Quatre gazed at it in wonder.

"Do you know what this is?" the lady asked gently sweeping her fingers along the maroon binding.

Quatre shrugged, waiting for her to reveal the answer.

"I don't know either," she opened it and hazel eyes scanned the writing, "It looks to be some sort of diary."  

Quatre's heart slightly leapt at the word, "Whose diary could it be?"

The lady examined the book more carefully and squinted to read elegant gold letters, "Catherine Winner." 

"Catherine Winner?" Quatre repeated, the words ringing through his mind like a long ago lullaby.

Look close, Quatre.  Your mother was the strongest, and the most noble of all…"Where did those words come from?" Quatre thought, his mind trying to draw water from a spring that dried long ago.  

*     *      *

Mr. Winner cradled Quatre in his arms.  The young boy was six months old and had sunshine blond hair.  So much like his mother.  He would have a gentle soul that was for sure.  He picked up a mahogany picture frame of the woman he loved smiling brightly while starlight flickered off her blue eyes.  Their honeymoon on the earth, the memories were almost too hard to bear.  He put the frame in front of Quatre who cooed playfully at the sight of the picture.

"Look close, Quatre," he stated repeating the same words he had spoken six months earlier when Quatre had been born and his mother's body lay limp on the hospital bed, "Your mother was the strongest, and the most noble of all."

*     *     *

            Five minutes of contemplating passed, and Quatre came to the conclusion that he must have lost his brain; he didn't have a mother.  Any flickering thoughts were just pure fancy and wishing.  And he had already learned that no amount of wishing could create one a mother of flesh and blood.

"Something wrong, sir?" the lady inquired handing him the diary and glancing at the fashionable gold clock around her wrist.  Quatre shook his head, eyes fixed on the book lying in his hands.  "I'm sorry, sir, I must be off now, but my agency will send you a transcript noting the value of the objects that were inspected today."  Quatre nodded, too enchanted at the moment to form words.  He didn't even notice the lady's departure.  His strong legs moved him to a comfortable couch in the corner to read and discover what the contents of the book held.

As he pampered himself with the pillows, he opened the book on his lap…

"The Diary of Catherine Winner", the book read on the first page.  He hurriedly turned to the next page and scanned over the words.

AC 180, January 15 

_Diary, you are a wondrous gift given to me by one of the ladies of the house.  You see, I am pregnant and due to the problems the Winner family has been having with natural births, I must rest for these last few months of pregnancy.  I am compelled say that I abhor having to rest day and night for a lady of the house is supposed to be up and about full of energy working at the side of her husband.  But alas, here I am, filled with the vigor of before, but bedridden.  You were given to me to pass my time since it is obvious that I am quite an impatient person.  Well, I must go for now, the doctor has come to check up on me._

_~ Catherine Winner_

"Could…could this be my mother?" his mind relished the thought, and he turned to the next page.

AC 180, January 16 

_Oh, diary, I'm in quite a predicament.  The doctor has told me that in order to bear this beautiful little boy growing inside me that I must give up my life.  I have no problem with the thought for I love my dear little child even as he is developing.  But my husband and the attendants, they do not approve of my choice.  How dare they even suggest me not continuing to bear this bundle of joy within me!  I could not live with myself if I did not bear this child.  And besides, I have wished for so very long to carry my husband's child for all his others are spawned by the test tube.  Finally my wish is granted and all those around me wish to steal my lifelong desire!  I will not allow it!  Little Quatre, for that is what I shall name him, do not despair!  Your mother shall bring you safely to this world.  Yes, I know that it is a bit early to start deciding upon names for my little boy, but this name, Quatre, has good reason for fitting my son.  You see, the first time my little boy kicked from inside of me, his younger sister, Kelly, was learning to count.  When she reached the number four, my young angel gave a tremendous kick from inside of me.  Later on, when I learned the word "quatre" meant four, I thought it would be a very fitting and beautiful name for my baby.  _

_~ Catherine Winner_

            Quatre braced himself as he realized sunk into his inner being.  He had a real mother.  A mother that must have died to allow him to live, a brave and noble mother that he had never knew about in all his life.  The truth stung, but he could understand why the truth might have been kept a secret.  Crystal droplets fell from his eyes, meandering down his reddened cheeks slowly; they were in grief for the loss of the mother he had never knew existed and in celebration of the fact that she had existed.  He read through the rest of the entries, all the while his eyes heavy with tears.  He kept the book at a distance as to protect it from the downpour of sorrow and joy.  The words he drunk in and his mind could almost see her in front of him speaking those words in a sweet voice that shamed all birds of song.  His fingers danced through the pages, until he came to a particular entry that he realized must have been her last.

AC 180, June 3 

It is time, diary.  I have endured these nine months for this.  Tomorrow, I shall be taken to the hospital to give birth to Quatre.  The birth shall be induced, and I will be monitored.  I do not fear death itself.  I do not fear it at all.  I only fear that I will not be around to sing lullabies to my little boy and to guide him through life.  I fear the impact my absence will have on the household, my husband, and my dear daughters.  I hope my dearest Quatre is able to read this one-day, and see how much I wanted to be there for him.  Oh, my dear angel, if your gorgeous eyes honor this page by looking over it, I want you to remember this always and forever: I love you more than words can say and apologize for not being able to be there.  I cannot wait until we meet again, and until then, my son, be brave, be strong, follow your heart, and remember that I was proud to bear you and will forever love you.

~Catherine Winner

With blurred eyes, he turned the page.  It was empty as he expected it to be.  He came to close the book, when a picture slipped out.  It was of his mother, pregnant with him, standing at the very pond he had been less than two hours ago.  Her gorgeous smile lighted up the whole room.  He gently hugged the picture to his chest as he said, **"I've seen you mother, and yes, you are the strongest, and the most noble of all!"**

Author's Note: This concludes my fanfic about Quatre finding out about the true nature of his birth.  I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading it.  Please be nice and leave a review.  ^_^


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